


Unshackled

by Jetamors



Category: Janelle Monae - Works
Genre: Chromatic Character, Chromatic Source, Chromatic Source Creator, Cyborgs, Detective Noir, Gen, Robots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-12
Updated: 2011-11-12
Packaged: 2017-10-25 23:38:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/276116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jetamors/pseuds/Jetamors
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missy Mae brings in her last bounty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unshackled

**Author's Note:**

  * For [overthetiber](https://archiveofourown.org/users/overthetiber/gifts).



> Thanks to troisroyaumes for the beta!

Cindi Mayweather, Alpha Platinum 5000 series, android number 57821. Last known location, Neon Valley Street District, where she somehow managed to escape from right under the noses of ten of Metropolis' finest droid marshals. Lucky girl. Wasn't going to be lucky for much longer, not if I had anything to say about it.

See, I'm not into all that flashy stuff, knocking down doors, phasers blazing. That stuff might bring you fame and fortune for a while, but next thing you know you're floating in the sewers with an electrodagger in your back. Me, I aim to survive. That's why I work the shadow cases, the ones that take a little more... finesse. The fame might not be as bright, but the paychecks are steadier. And if there's one thing you can use in a city like Metropolis, it's money.

The name's Missy Mae. I'm from the Cotton 3400 series, and my number is 43028--yeah, that's right, I'm an android. Only cyborg droid marshal in the city. You might think it would keep me up at night, hunting down other androids, but I don't let it bother me. You've got to make a living in a city like this, no matter how distasteful it seems. And it beats the hell out of the other options.

My owner is Red Rose, lives halfway up the Tower of Technobabble. A big shot, in other words. She's not so bad; wants a payment every month, but other than that she don't care too much what I do. The payment's pretty large, which is why I got into this business. But hey, it could always be worse, in a city like this. I can't complain about it.

Anyway, back to the dame. Cindi Mayweather was her name, and I didn't even have to look her up, because I knew exactly who she was. Most famous android in the city, and the most infamous too--singing freedom songs at the auction, consorting with Lady Maestra, making three highly publicized attempts to buy her freedom. Most of us couldn't get away with that kind of thing, but the humans couldn't decide whether they loved her or hated her. Wasn't so surprising that she'd end up in a bind like this.

Most importantly, there was a bounty on her head that practically made my optics pop out. If I could bring her in, I'd be able to live off the money for a year. Hell, I might even be able to buy my freedom from Red Rose, if she'd consider it. All in all, I'm saying it was a pretty good bet. I put on my trenchcoat, with my usual assortment of nasty little surprises in the pockets, and went out to gather some information.

My first stop on this kind of case, as always, was Mushrooms and Roses. No relation to my lovely owner, of course. I wasn't expecting Cindi to be there, but I figured they'd know something about it.

See, Mushrooms and Roses is the place where androids and humans go to indulge in the more forbidden emotions. Me personally, I prefer to interact with humans as little as possible, but a lot of my cases involve this kind of thing. So I've built up a good relationship with the tenders and regulars there. I wander in, scope the conversation, pretend to be interested in their sordid little affairs, and then follow the leads they give me. It's a good bet.

Like I expected, there were an awful lot of half-whispered conversations in the place, and a lot of them seemed to mention her name. Cindi was always a topic of conversation, of course, but apparently the recent charges had sent everyone into overdrive.

"Seems like Cindi's on everyone's lips today," I said as I sallied up to the bar. Fat Tuesday is the bartender's name, and he already knew my order. "They catch her yet?"

"Naw, and I don't think they will," Fat Tuesday said. He poured me a stiff one, alcohol laced with polyolefins. Goes down smooth and loosens everything up, if you know what I mean. We made small talk, and when I was halfway through the drink, Tuesday leaned in, even though there wasn't anyone near us. "They're saying she's starting to fit the prophecy. She might be the ArchAndroid."

I tell you, I felt a little shiver play across my ceramics when he said that. All I could do was lean back and drain my drink. Not much else you could do after hearing something like that. The ArchAndroid. Dear Maker.

It's the kind of thing that most cyborgs know about, but humans don't have a clue. The short version is that the ArchAndroid is supposed to be the promised one who finally frees us from the humans. There's a bunch of other details, something about a crown and a bridge and stuff, but that's not the important part. The thing is, despite the whole thing being ripe for some conman, I never heard of anyone actually claiming to _be_ The ArchAndroid, or claiming that someone else was. Not even a whisper. So if someone was saying that--well, I ain't exactly religious, but even I couldn't brush it off.

"Anything to it?" I asked him when I got my breath back.

He shrugged. "Who knows? Ask me, if it's anyone, it's her." I would've pressed him more, but just then another customer came up. It was a human, wanting one of their ethanol drinks. There was a cyborg hanging off of her too, looking dopey and besotted. I fought the urge to sneer, and took the opportunity to slip out.

It's not like I could've gotten much more out of him anyway. When it's a religious thing, you've really gotta go to the religion to get any answers. I knew my next stop would have to be the Cythedral, deep down under the city. And that meant I would have to pretend to be a good little church girl for a while.

Okay, so nobody's disputing that Rotwang was the one who created the first androids, back in 22-whatever. But a lot of androids don't believe it was him, exactly, but what they call the Maker working through him, and that's the one who they worship. Well, who _we_ worship, I guess.

It's not that I don't believe, but the Maker hasn't gotten Red Rose off my back so far. Hard to worship someone who don't seem to care about you. And I don't see how the Cythedral's done a damn to help any of us. All that energy to carve the place out underneath the city, and keep it a secret, you'd think they could do something more useful with their time than sitting around hoping for the ArchAndroid to save us.

Says the droid marshal, I know. But that don't make it any less true and you know it.

Still, if anybody knew about this ArchAndroid thing, it would be them. I hadn't been there since I was fresh from the factory, before I found out how hard it would be to raise all that money every month. Still, I knew the way. Every cyborg does.

See, to keep it secret, the Cythedral is underneath the city, and it moves around a lot. There's a particular frequency you have to tune into to get directions; it's not impossible for a human to patch in, but it would be pretty tough. Wherever it happens to be, it's always a small place. Kind of primitive actually, if you compared it to the sophistication of our own bodies. But then, it wasn't a place to worship us.

At the entrance, you take off your clothes and depower your face. You come before the Maker just as you were fabricated, no pixels or holograms between you. I didn't exactly like giving up my trench coat, but I wasn't really worried about it. Nobody's gonna steal from the Maker.

Inside, on the walls were drawings of the Maker: some young, some old, some male, some female, all kinds of different colors. The only thing they have in common is that each version is a human, with a cyborg left arm. That's supposed to be the Maker's Mark, or something like that. At least, I think. I never paid much attention to theology. A few worshipers were scattered around too, two kneeling, one drawing on the walls.

More importantly, there was a priest there, some regular droid who hangs around long enough to get promoted. Me, I don't see the point of it. Maybe being a big shot down here took the sting out of being owned up there. But then I like to face facts where I can, instead of escaping into some dream world.

Today's priest turned around, and I recognized her right away. Ophelia Brooks, a Cotton 3400 android from the same series as me: number 43023, in fact. We'd been in the same batch together, but I'd lost contact with most of my old batch over the years. I didn't really regret it; it would be harder to hide what I did from them. Still, it was good to see her again. I wouldn't have pegged her as one of these godbotherers, but I guess even cyborgs change.

"Missy Mae," she said, coming up to me. No facial expression--she was barefaced, of course, just like I was.

"Ophie! How are you?" I said, and gave her a hug. I wasn't faking it or anything, either. She was my batch sister, after all, and we hadn't seen each other in a long, long time.

"Same place I was before," Ophie said, and I could feel her shoulders droop. Oh yeah, I'd forgotten. She was in a bad situation, worse than mine. "But how are you now?"

"Scraping through somehow," I said, trying to keep it vague. Casting for a change of subject, I ended up just blurting it out. "There any truth to this whole ArchAndroid thing with Cindi Mayweather?"

"First time we see each other in twenty years back and that's what you ask me about?" She tilted her head at me, and I got the sudden impression that I'd made a misstep.

If I'd been wearing my face, this would've been where the blush was programmed in. "Sorry, Ophie. It's actually why I came down here in the first place, to ask about it. I wasn't expecting to see you here. It's good, though," I said, feeling myself bluster. It was always hardest to lie to Ophie. "You can tell me all about it, right?"

"Missy..." Ophie turned away. That was a bad sign. "What exactly is it that you do?"

"What, are you saying I'm a spy or something?" It came out too loud; some of the worshipers were turning to look at us. I switched to tightband. **Ophie, what's this all about?**

**You tell me!** Ophie said, more angry now that we couldn't be overheard. **I practically haven't seen you since we got auctioned off, and now suddenly you're sniffing around asking questions? It's not that I want to distrust you, but... consider the circumstances, would you?**

So much for batch loyalty. "Forget this, I'm leaving," I said aloud. "I guess the Maker doesn't care for all us androids after all." I could see her flinch at that one, and knew the barb had hit home.

"Missy, we think that she might be the one. That's all I can tell you." Which was neat and safe and told me exactly nothing about how to track her down. Still, I guess she didn't even have to do that much.

"Thanks, Ophie," I said. I considered doing some big showy prayer to shame her, but somehow it didn't seem worth it. I went to the entrance, pulled my clothes back on, and left without a backward glance.

***

Seeing as how my current leads had dried up to nothing, and thrown suspicion on me besides, I decided to take it easy for the next few weeks. Yeah, it would be a great score if I could bring in Cindi, but the last thing I wanted was to get my cover blown. Even if I did bring her in, and even if I could buy my freedom, if they could trace it back to me, I'd never be safe, maybe not even if I left Metropolis. There wasn't nothing worth that.

I worked a few small jobs in the meantime, nothing anywhere near Cindi or the Cythedral. I kept half an eye out, but I didn't see hide nor hair of her, and neither did anyone else. We sure talked about her, though. In fact, it was all we androids talked about. The humans might've been talking about it too, but if so, they didn't say too much about it to us. There was no news, though. It didn't seem like I was going to get scooped, but I didn't have any leads either.

And then the Maker practically tossed my big break right into my lap. Just walking down the street one day, I passed by Anthony Greendown.

That might not have been so strange in itself. While Cindi had gone to ground, Anthony Greendown had been making himself quite conspicuous lately. Not surprising; his peers might not like his taste in lovers, but he wasn't gonna get dragged away by the droid marshals any time soon. His whereabouts had been quite well documented for several weeks, and I had been tracking him the entire time. Thing was, according to the official bugs, he was supposed to be on the other side of the city right now.

He was disguised, of course, but I knew who he was. When I started on the Cindi case, I'd downloaded the faces and voices of everyone even tangentially connected. It was the kind of thing that could pay off in ways you'd never expect. Like this one. I circled around, carefully so he wouldn't notice, and started following him.

I didn't have to follow him for long. Pretty soon, he ducked into the doorway of a nearby building. I didn't try to follow him inside, but I marked it, and started making plans.

The owner of the building probably didn't know anything about it, but there were several odd features in its design. It's the kind of thing humans don't think about, when they have androids building for them, but as a fellow android, it's the kind of thing I pick up on. From the building plans, it didn't take much more work to figure out where the half-disguised shafts and tunnels led. And that told me where I had to go.

I went in by myself, like I usually do. Trench coat, hat, a handkerchief tied around my face so I wouldn't be recognized. I do my best to carry myself as a human, when I'm bringing in a bounty. Like I've said, I can't afford to be recognized. I might as well turn in my cybersoul as soon as it happens, because it won't be with me much longer.

Her guard detail was pretty light, actually; two outside what I assumed was her hideout, but that was it. I spotted them before they spotted me, and hid around a corner while I considered my options. They were obviously professionals. From 1954, was my guess, and it was one that made me wary. I usually tried not to tangle with the political outfits too much; if anyone had the resources to track me down, it would be them. And I did not intend to be tracked down.

For the first one, I pulled on my gloves and skittered an electricaltrop across the floor. It immobilizes any droid that comes in contact with it for a while, with sharp spikes to make sure it's embedded well. They're one of my favorite weapons.

The one on the right went down; her partner glanced at her for a moment, then started scanning the corridor. I said they were a professional outfit, right?

I was already in motion, though, running right at her, at around max human speed. She pulled her phaser and started shooting at me, but my trench coat deflected the shots. Then I was on top of her; I pulled my phaser and shot her in the face.

That was pretty much it for them. The door they'd been guarding was locked, but I kicked it down and went right in.

I'll give it to her, Cindi was halfway into the vent when I got there, even though the fight in the hallway couldn't have lasted more than five seconds. I guess you learn that kind of paranoia when you're being hunted by an entire city. Still, it wasn't enough to save her this time.

I hauled her out of the vent and slapped a pair of cuffs onto her that would immobilize her. Could've used another electricaltrop, I guess, but sometimes they have screwy side effects, and I knew the bounty would be better if I brought her in alive.

She yelled, of course, but the cuffs wouldn't let her talk too loud. I put a bag over her head, too, just to be safe. No point in getting scooped while I was taking her to the Star Commission, right? After that, I flung her over my shoulder and got going. There was nothing else for me to do there, and who knew when backup would arrive?

I was climbing up one of the access shafts when she started talking.

"You're--you're an android too, aren't you?" she said. It was hard to hear her, muffled by the bag and the cuffs. "I didn't know there were any in the droid marshals."

I didn't say anything. Didn't know how she could tell. I've done this a million times before, and nobody's ever noticed, whether they were human or android.

"I'm not going to lecture you on it," she continued. "I'm sure you have your reasons. But I'm just telling you: we can do better than this. I know we can."

That startled a laugh out of me. "Better? How, by sucking face with some human? When you actually do something for us, then maybe we can talk."

"All I did was fall in love! Why does that means I have to free us?"

"Ain't it your job? You're the ArchAndroid, right?"

"That's what everyone keeps saying." She didn't sound very happy about it. "But even if I am, what do they expect me to do by myself?"

And this was the one who was supposed to save us?

"So far, you haven't done nothing," I told her. "And really, you can't. This is the world we live in. Androids like you fall in love, androids like me punish you for it, and the humans got their foot on both our necks. It ain't something we can change. It just is."

"It doesn't have to be this way," she said. I was getting sick of that line.

"Well I don't see any other way for things to be," I said. "You don't like it, then change it, ArchAndroid. You're the only one who can, right?"

She was quiet for a while after that, until I'd gotten out of the building and had her in my hover. A few people stared--you don't see a masked woman manhandling another woman into a hover every day--but nobody said nothing. It wasn't exactly a friendly neighborhood. "You're right," she said finally, while I was driving. "I haven't done anything for us. But then, you haven't either, have you?"

"I do for myself," I said, maybe more roughly than I had to. "That's more than enough."

"But is it really enough?" she asked. "I've been thinking for a while now, what if we androids all helped each other? I can't change things by myself, and neither can you. But if we worked together—if you freed me now, and started sending information to the Wundaground—then it would make a difference. It would be small to start with, but we could bring in more and more people, and the more we had, the more things would change. And it would work whether I'm the ArchAndroid or not. It doesn't have to be everyone out for their own. You don't have to live this way!"

Maybe you'd like this to be a story where I saw the tragedy of my ways right then, and set her free. Well, sorry to disappoint you. I drove right to the Star Commission and dumped her in their laps myself. I tell you, I've never seen anything like the looks on their faces when I whipped that bag off her head.

As they were dragging her away to the interrogation rooms, she looked back at me for one last time. "You're not alone in this, you know!" she shouted. And then she was gone. Not what I would choose for last words.

I went home after that. They automatically squirt the bounty to your account, so there wasn't much left for me to do there. I had more money than I knew what to do with, and I needed someplace to think about it. My head was spinning. I could even be freed with this much. But then... what would I do then?

Wasn't nobody I could talk to about it, and not just because of the obvious. We droid marshals would drag you off for loving another android just as fast as we would for loving a human. I'd noticed that real early, and promised myself I wouldn't get close to no one. It was just too dangerous.

But now I was sitting at home, nobody to talk to, nothing to do. I'd brought in Cindi Mayweather, sure, but for what? You couldn't even call it living, what I was doing. Just surviving. And all I had to look forward to was more of the same.

I sat at home for I don't know how long. A few days, maybe. And then, when I couldn't stand it anymore, I started to walk the city.

While I walked, I started looking around. I mean really looking, not just passing by or doing surveillance. I never really thought about it before, but we were basically everywhere. Waste droids cleaning, hovers driven by android chauffeurs, rich humans followed by the "assistants" who did most of their work. Even below my feet, I could feel the vibrations from the factories where we made ourselves and pretty much everything else.

Why didn't the humans want us to fall in love? Was it to keep us apart?

I walked for hours, and eventually I found myself going deeper and deeper into the city, into the places where the sun never shines and humans never venture. It felt right, somehow.

When I reached the Cythedral, there wasn't anyone there that I recognized, so I just sat down for a while. Didn't pray, didn't do nothing, just sat. I wasn't powered down, though. I was too busy thinking.

Ophie came eventually, like I figured she would. "Missy?" she said, kneeling to look into my face.

I knew what I had to say, but now that she was in front of me, I didn't know if I could say it. "I need to talk to you," I managed.

"About what?" Ophie asked. I didn't say anything, but after a moment she understood. We're from the same batch, after all. "About what you've been doing?"

"Yeah," I said. "I'll tell you all of it."


End file.
